Chapter twenty-three
Shane
The devil’s food and its sacrifices.
~ Two Days Later ~
“Coach Jefferson, how are you feeling after this loss? Taking The Griffins out of the playoffs in just the first round, after such a phenomenal year last season? Would you say you are disappointed with tonight? Do you think your players could have done better?” One of the reporters holds his recorder toward me, waiting for an answer.
I look around the room where we hold the press conferences, standing behind the podium as cameras flash. Microphones, video cameras, and recorders are all aimed my way, waiting to hear what I have to say.
“I wish we weren’t ending the season here.
I do wish we would have made it further into the playoffs and proved that we still have what it takes to be champions.
Because we do. This season was just not ours.
With the number of injured players that we’ve had, great injured players, it rocked our ship for a little while.
But we got back up, and we gave it our all. ”
A few of them nod, agreeing with me. “Am I disappointed? Of course, I’m disappointed that we lost. It was a tight run against the Reapers from Game One, but we did our best. It simply wasn’t enough this season, but we’ll come back stronger in October,” I tell them before continuing.
“Am I disappointed in my players? Do I think they could have done better? Absolutely not. I stand by my team. I am proud of my team. Those men worked hard every single day; they went above and beyond. I’ll always be proud of them despite our loss tonight.”
After a few more questions, I finally wish them goodnight and leave the room.
These press conferences are always brutal.
Who thought it would be such a great idea to have them held ten minutes after getting off the ice, when emotions are still running high?
When I have a team of players who are all down and beating on themselves, wishing they had done better. When they already did their best.
Once we’re all back at our hotel, I head up to my room, ready to call it a night.
The only good side to being out of the playoffs is that I’ll get to spend all my days with Aubrey from now on.
My phone rings just as I’m shutting the door.
I look at the screen and see a picture of my beautiful Angel smiling up at me.
I quickly accept the video call and lift my phone in front of me. “Hi, Angel. I thought you’d be sleeping by now?” She’s bundled up under the covers in our bed, clearly ready to call it a night as well.
“I’m in bed, but I wanted to call you before you went to sleep, see how you’re doing.” She gives me a sympathetic smile.
“I’m okay. It sucks, but we’ll get over it and try harder in the fall.” I shrug, kicking off my shoes and setting the phone down on the dresser to remove my tie.
“I know you will. I’m proud of you, Shane. And that speech you gave was beautiful. I know it will mean a lot to the guys hearing you say that.”
“Thanks.” I smile, taking off my suit jacket and beginning to unbutton my dress shirt. “How’s our girl doing?”
Aubrey’s face lights up at the mention of our baby. “She’s good, I can feel her moving around more and more. It’s a crazy feeling, but I love it.”
I throw my dress shirt down on the bed and pick up the phone as I sit on the edge of the mattress. “Yeah? God, I can’t wait to be able to feel her too.”
“Dr. Carlson said you should start feeling her within the next few weeks. She’s been kicking a lot today, so who knows. Maybe tomorrow you will when you get home,” she says softly with an affectionate smile, but it quickly turns into a yawn.
“You should get some sleep, sweetheart. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” I tell her, wishing I could be with her right now.
“Okay, I love you. And again, we’re really proud of you, Daddy,” she whispers.
My throat clogs with emotions at the name. “I love you both. Goodnight, Angel.”
“Goodnight, Shane.”
~ Four Weeks Later / June ~
I wake up to the sound of my girl clacking away in the distance and the smell of baked goods in the air.
This has become our new normal. Aubrey has started suffering from insomnia, which apparently is normal during pregnancy.
But that means she’s up most of the night and when she does manage to sleep, she wakes up at half past four in the morning and creates new recipes until I get up and stop her.
I love trying her new concoctions, but she’s overworking herself, and I’m afraid that isn’t healthy for her.
Aubrey is now twenty-five weeks pregnant and glowing. Her blood pressure has improved over the last week, but she still needs to monitor it until the doctor thinks it’s safe to forget about it. It’s still on the lower side, but no longer within the region of what they considered hypotension.
I throw the covers to the side and climb out of bed, looking at the time. It’s just past seven in the morning, which is later than I’m used to waking up at. But that’s how it is every summer, I slowly fall out of my routine, only to jump right back into it a few months later.
Pulling on a pair of sweatpants with a simple t-shirt, I head over to the kitchen where I know my girl is going crazy at it. When I get to the entrance of the grand kitchen, I rest my shoulder against the wall, folding my arms over my chest, feet crossed at the ankles, and I just watch her.
She’s dressed in one of my gray shirts that, despite her rounded belly, still hits halfway down her thighs. Her feet are bare, red nail polish covering her toes as she pads around the kitchen.
Her hair is up in a messy bun above her head, and when I say messy, I mean very messy. Strands of hair fall out in every direction, the bun tipping to one side, and with every step she takes, or every time she moves her head, the bun wiggles around.
She’s magnificent.
She comes back around the counter, a new mixing bowl in her hands with a serious look on her face as she huffs out a breath to blow the strand in her face away. She finally looks up my way and that serious look disappears instantly, replaced by a breathtaking smile. “Hi, sweetie.”
The pet name makes me smile. She doesn’t use it often, but I like it, it makes us seem more domestic. But I also love the way she says my name. It always makes a shiver course through my body as warmth blossoms in my chest.
I graze my bottom lip with my teeth, watching as she gets back into action. Her hand runs softly over her belly as she takes down notes in the recipe journal I gave her for her birthday.
“I once had a dream a long time ago, similar to this,” I finally say.
She puts the pencil down and looks at me with a raised brow. “You did?”
I nod my head. “Mhm, you were standing in our kitchen in nothing but my shirt, heavily pregnant and barefoot. Your hair was down, and you were making us waffles.”
She laughs softly, looking down at herself and touching her messy hair. “And how does the reality compare to your dream?”
I push off the wall and walk over to her. My hands come to her face as I place the rogue strands behind her ears and cup her cheeks, tilting her head up toward me. I lower myself, rubbing the tip of my nose against hers. “It’s a thousand times better.”
“You’re just saying that to be nice. I know I look terrible right now.” She smiles with her eyes closed.
“Never. You’ll always look beautiful to me.” I kiss my girl delicately, then lower onto my knees and kiss my other girl. “Good morning, my Little Star.” I let my forehead rest against her belly, hands on both sides of it, just taking a moment to connect with my daughter.
I’m about to stand when something pushes against my forehead. My eyes instantly spring open, and I pull my head back, looking at the spot I felt move. I gaze up at Aubrey and find her smiling down at me.
“I think someone is saying hi to Daddy,” she says in her quiet, soft voice.
I look back down at her stomach, waiting to see if something else happens as my heart races in my chest. I move my hands around a little, bringing them closer to the front where I felt our daughter.
I wait, and wait, and wait. And just as I’m about to give up, it happens again, this time under my right hand.
A disbelief laugh falls from my lips as I swallow past the lump in my throat, my eyes growing misty with the emotions coursing through my veins. “Hi, baby.” I lean in, moving my right hand and kissing the spot that moved. “Daddy loves you.”
I finally stand, wrapping my arms around Aubrey as I bury my face in her neck, sniffling away the tears.
I’ve never felt anything like this. It’s a feeling that can’t even be explained.
It’s like experiencing the thing you’ve always wished for, the thing you’ve longed for your entire life.
And once it finally happens, it’s so much more than you expected. So much more beautiful.
“Oh, Shane.” Her arms tighten around me, fingers gliding through my hair.
After a few more minutes, I finally let go and let out a breath as I wipe away the wetness from my eyes. Aubrey smiles at me with so much love shining in her eyes, I can’t help but lean in and kiss her. “Show me what you’ve been up to this morning,” I tell her.
“Oh, yes! Come! These three new recipes are unbelievable,” she says excitedly as she takes my hand and brings me over to the three glass stands that hold three different flavors of treats. She picks up the first cupcake with white frosting and what looks like coconut flakes. “Try it.”
I take it from her hand and peel back the liner before biting into it. I never fear anything Aubrey makes, but this time, I should have. My eyes widen as I slow my chewing, unsure of what I’m tasting. When I notice Aubrey watching me intensely, I neutralize my expression.
“Hmm, this is… interesting. What is it?”
“A coconut and pickle cupcake. Do you like it? I was experimenting with new flavors, and these are the three best ones.” She practically bounces on her heels with joy.
Shit, these are the best ones? What else could she have made that is worse than this?